


Song Bird

by Ohio_Doe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boys Kissing, Broken Dean, Dean Winchester In Love, Dean Winchester Sings, Hurt Dean Winchester, Idiots in Love, Sad Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 05:26:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21192311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohio_Doe/pseuds/Ohio_Doe
Summary: Dean wants to sing his heart out. His broken, abandoned, lost heart.Set me free, my honeybee.





	Song Bird

**Author's Note:**

> Song link at end  
Just something random I thought of on my drive to work.

Taking a deep breath, Dean closed his eyes and sent a wish or prayer or whatever out there to whatever or whoever was listening. For the last several months, the previously well-known town flirt had been locked up in his house, moping. No, not moping. Grieving. Well, that’s melodramatic. He was mourning the best relationship he’d ever had, missing the hugs, kisses, cuddles, effortless love he gave to that someone special.

Castiel. The one who got away. Or, well, ran away. He’d sat Dean down after only six months of dating, informing Dean that he was unsure if Dean was able to love him the way he wanted, afraid that his eye might wonder and also broke the news he took a job in Seattle. Who the fuck goes to Seattle? Whatever.

So he sat around when he wasn’t at work, failed to keep his hygiene routine intact and somehow forgot how to shave at some point. The cleanest he’d looked was tonight, beard neatened up, jeans that didn’t have any grease stains and shirts without holes in them. Having run out of contacts, he was forced to wear his glasses, upping the nerdy-ness of his getup.

Stroking the neck of his guitar, Dean warmed his vocal cords but using some exercises. Something stupid like the Mah! From High School Musical. In minutes, he’d step onto the stage at the Roadhouse for the first time in a handful of months. Tonight, he wanted to move on from his lost love, wanted to sing his grief away and leave it laying on the stage.

Sam ambled his way to Dean’s side, weird look in his eye. “Hey, got some old faces out there. Some… unexpected faces. Anyway, you ready?”

Dean wasn’t sure if he should laugh or cry. His nerves and his stomach were rattled and his insides felt like they were about to fall out or his mouth and ass at the same time. “I… I don’t know if I can do it.”

“You got this, Dean. Gabe and I are out there cheering you on.” Sam patted Dean’s should with his monster of a paw.

Barely reassured, Dean nodded, making his way up to the stage. Unable to see the crowd due to the lights and is glasses, he cleared his throat and sat on the stool. Everything was already set up, microphones already adjusted and placed where his voice and guitar could be heard. The room settled down, a whistle from the back of the bar the only thing Dean could make out clearly.

“Hi guys, long time no see.” Dean gulped, his throat clicking. He settled the guitar on his lap and strummed the strings a few times. “I’m going to sing some oldies, some y’all will know if you’ve heard me sing before. But I do have a new one to finish my set.” Another deep breath, wiping his forehead of nonexistent sweat, and another throat clearing, Dean began to play.

He strummed his way effortlessly through some of his usual songs. Tennessee Whiskey was a favorite, garnering some low rumbles of people singing along. Sweet Child O’ Mine, Fucking Perfect, and Hallelujah left Dean’s lips and fingers as if he’d never set the guitar down, let alone for months. The closer he got to the last song, the more he shook and the less he wanted to sing.

Strumming the last strings of Simple Man, Dean took another deep breath. He could back out now, he could end his session here and walk away. But… that would kill the point of why he was here. It would prevent him from getting over his grief, keep him from moving on.

“This next song is a new one. For everyone but Sammy.” Dean chuckled when Sam groaned in the crowd, somewhere behind the lights. “This song is for those of you who have fallen in love so swift and so hard that you feel like you’re falling yourself. This is for the people who hit hard at the bottom when the person they loved didn’t catch them.”

Dean felt kind of odd saying the word love since he never got the chance to tell Cas how much he cared for him, how much he loved him in such a short amount of time. Strumming the guitar, knowing he was about to get this out made him feel like a volcano about to erupt.

_You didn't have to look my way_

_Your eyes still haunt me to this day_

_But you did_

_Yes, you did_

_You didn't have to say my name_

_Ignite my circuits and start a flame_

_But you did_

Dean smiled, thinking about how they first met, buying a jar of honey from Cas to make Sam some sort of pie. He remembers when he first saw Cas’ eyes, bluer than the sky and deeper than the ocean. What a crock of shit, he huffed.

_Oh, Turpentine erase me whole_

_'Cause I don't want to live my life alone_

_Well, I was waiting for you all my life_

_Oh, oh, oh_

_Why?_

_Set me free_

_My honeybee_

Honeybee, the name Dean called Cas. The bee-farmer slash yoga instructor who stole Dean’s heart with his crinkled smile and bee facts.

_You didn't have to smile at me_

_Your grin's the sweetest that I've ever seen_

_But you did_

_Yes, you did_

_You didn't have to offer your hand_

_'Cause since I've kissed it, I am at your command_

_But you did_

God, the smile Cas had. The lips, plush and full. The kisses he gifted Dean, the way he gasped and chanted Dean’s name in ecstasy.

_Hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you_

_How I find myself without you_

_That I'll never know _

_I let myself go _

_Hello, goodbye, I'm rather crazy_

_And I never thought I was crazy_

_But what do I know? _

_I let myself go_

God, did Dean feel crazy. He felt absolutely lost, a cavity in the earth opening up, ready to collapse. And he did let himself go. He not only let his physical life go, he let his mental life go wild, unchecked.

_Hello, goodbye, t'was nice to know you_

_How I find myself without you_

_That I'll never know _

_I let myself go _

_Hello, goodbye, I'm rather crazy_

_And I never thought I was crazy_

_But what do I know? _

_I let myself go_

Hoping the few tears that escaped his eyes were mistaken for sweat, Dean strummed a few times through the end of the song. Thankful that the only people who knew what Dean looked like when he cried were Cas and Sam, Dean didn’t feel too self-conscious. Cas had laid with him one night, stroking his face as he cried, shooshing him and whispering positive things into his ear.

He’d later told Dean the only way he knew he was crying besides his tears was his little lip wobble and the tip of his nose started to turn pink. It was embarrassing but it made Dean feel even closer to Cas, knowing that he not only knew him but observed him and memorized him.

Somehow breathless after a rather slow song, Dean stood, thanked the crowd, and walked off of the stage. He was shaken and felt like he was even more in love tonight than he felt months ago. It wasn’t fair. It was so unfair that he was so in love and so destroyed at the same time while Cas was living his life in Washington.

Dean sat for a while in his car, staring unlinking out of his windshield. The parking lot was dark and it was drizzling. It seemed to be mocking his mood. A knock on the passenger window startled him, making him jump. “Jesus,” Dean muttered, leaning across the seat to unlock the door.

The head the appeared in the open door was not who he was expecting. Instead of his moose of a brother or even Gabe, Castiel fucking Novak was peering in with his eyes that were bluer than the sky and deeper than the sea. Whatever, crock of shit.

“Uh..” Dean so eloquently mumbled.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel bit his lip, looking around. “Could I come in?”

He must have muttered a yes because Cas was sliding into the front seat next to Dean, his stupid trench coat ever-present and his stupid hair mussed. His stupid perfect face and his dumb soft lips. Goddammit.

Castiel cleared his throat, fiddling with his fingers. “I heard you sing.”

Closing his eyes, Dean clenched his steering wheel. “Oh.”

“Yeah. It was nice. I didn’t think I’d hear it again.” Castiel’s voice was low, soft. It sounded like he was afraid to spook a scared dog. “I was in town visiting Gabe. Sam convinced us to come out tonight.” The seat creaked when Cas readjusted, seemingly uncomfortable. “I missed your voice. So I thought I’d come out to hear it.”

Dean dropped his hands into his lap, leaning his head back against the seat. “You heard it all?”

“Yes,” Cas answered, looking over to Dean. “Dean, I…” His voice broke, Cas stopped talking.

“I didn’t even know you were in town,” Dean mumbled. Of all things to say, that was what Dean came up with.

Castiel smiled a sad smile. “I asked Gabe to keep it to himself. I guess Sam is a part of that. I’m surprised he didn’t say anything, honestly.”

“No, he didn’t,” Dean mumbled, trying not to look at Cas, at his lips, at his perfect face. “Sam loves me. He protects me like I protect him. Physically. And emotionally.”

Quiet rang out in the car except their breaths for a few moments. Dean’s mind was reeling. Why was he even here?

“I made a mistake.” Cas’ voice broke, emotion welling up in his words. “I miss you so much. I miss your hands, and your freckles, and the way your nose turns pink when you cry.” His voice broke again, tears slowly falling down his cheeks. “I even miss the stupid way you cook breakfast in your underwear and the way you hog the covers when you sleep and the way you dance with me when there isn’t any music.”

Dean bit his lip, trying to prevent the sob that was making its way up his throat from escaping. Cas had remembered his stupid habits and how he’d dance quietly. “What about Seattle?”

Castiel sniffed. “Seattle can suck a dick. It’s cold, and empty, and you’re not there.” He wiped his cheek with the sleeve of his trench coat. “I would lay there every night, thinking about the little ways you showed me you loved me. The kisses, the meals you cooked, the way you’d make me coffee before I even woke up. I didn’t realize what they were until I didn’t have them anymore. I didn’t realize that you loved me as hard as I loved you.”

The sob escaped Dean’s lips, betraying him and his unfailing emotional status. Cas was here and he was back and he could love him. Before he knew what he was doing, Dean’s lips were on Cas’, tearful kisses and wet chuckles were shared in the front seat. The feeling of Cas’ lips against his was all he wanted right now, the sound of his breath and the feeling of his skin.

His glasses were knocked askew and Dean couldn’t care less. He pulled back, eyes mapping out Castiel’s face, his soft lips, his blue eyes, and his perfect stupid face. Cas seemed to have lost a few pounds, his face a bit sallow. “Are you okay?”

Castiel chuckled, letting his fingers graze Dean’s bearded cheeks. “I’m fine now that I’m here. It turns out that when you lose the person you love, you forget to eat sometimes. Or shave, for that matter.” He chuckled again, eyes shining.

Dean smiles, kissing Cas a few more times. “I’ll just have to make you more dinners. I’ve been missing cooking for you.” He sniffled, pulling back even further. “But really, what about Seattle?”

“I can raise bees anywhere.” Castiel murmured, sliding closer to Dean. “I’m sure Cain would take me back. If not, I still have my own bees. And it’s the same for yoga. It’s universal.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll need to cancel my lease and move my stuff and find a place to live-“

Dean cut him off, kissing the words from his lips. “Move in with me. Stay with me, in my bed, in my life.”

Castiel’s breath hitched, tears welling up in his eyes again. “Yeah, okay.”

Dean loved looking into Castiel’s eyes whenever he could. When they were laying in bed, across the kitchen table, when they’re making dinner, especially when Dean told Cas that he loved him. It didn’t matter. He loved looking into the eyes of the man he loved that were bluer than the sky and deeper than the ocean. It may be a crock of shit, but it was Dean’s crock of shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Song -   
Steam Powered Giraffe - Honeybee
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ojYK6CW8gdw


End file.
